The Night Season
by Thriller Killer
Summary: Mike Schmidt, a twenty five year old local is desperate. For a job. One day looking through the newspaper, he finds an advertisement for Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, and gladly takes the spot. Little does he know of the unusually intelligent animatronics who rule the restaurant at night. Boy, is he in for one hell of a week.
1. Night 0

**The Night Season: Night 0**

**Five Nights At Freddy's**

**Created on 11/24/14**

**Written by Izzy Vasquez**

**Night 0**

**A young man was sitting on a tattered wooden chair that would have put any antique to shame. He had dark brown locks of hair that fell into his blue eyes whenever he looked down, and currently he was staring at a rumpled heap of newspapers on the similarly broken table. A red pen was currently in his hand and ready to flash out any moment. Michael Schmidt was the man's name. Mike Schmidt who was struggling to pay the rent and eager to take any job that appeared. He applied for a great amount of interviews, but with no avail. They either flat out rejected his desperate plea or said, "We aren't looking for someone with your abilities." Curse his art major.**

**Still scanning the papers, an advertisement with a bear in a top hat stood out to him. Reading the caption on the side, Mike scrambled a circle furiously around it. They were looking for a night guard. The pay, however, was a minuscule 120$ after five days. He shrugged.**

**Whatever'll get the landlord off my ass for a while.**

**Quickly changing into a clean pair of jeans and semi-formal tee shirt, the man leaped into his piece of crap car. The stupid thing wouldn't turn on even after a couple turns of the key. Mike sighed as the vehicle sputtered to life, and set off towards Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. **

**The town he lived in was quite and serene most of the time, the occasional crime. The only extremely big thing was when these five children went missing. He never really looked in to things like that, though. Within about ten minutes or so time, Michael pulled up in the Freddy Fazbear's parking lot. The ad was flashing around a red ring as he brought it out, he didn't want them to think that he was some weirdo randomly popping in a kids place.**

**Stepping out of his rusted red car, he stepped in the pizzeria. It smelled of grease and sweat, and kids looked like they were practically on weed. People shouted, cursed, and sprinted. Mike noticed with further observation that the place had seen better days. Very better days. Posters peeled, cushions and walls and carpets were stained, and the animatronics stood creepily on stage. The purple curtains were pulled back to reveal Bonnie, Chica, and Freddy Fazbear himself. Bonnie's robotic limbs moved over his guitar and one hand waved at the audience. Kids squealed all over, practically in a heap of bodies by the stage.**

**Tearing his gaze away from the animatronics piercing eyes, he sought for an employee to confide him in the whereabouts of the owner. Mike met a short, wispy haired man in an employee outfit.**

**"Excuse me," Mike called out, "do you know where the owner is?"**

**The unknown man turned around and Mike clenched the advertisement in one hand. "That, would be me."**

**Walking over and handing out the newspaper he stuttered, "I-I'm looking for t-the job as a night g-guard"**

**"Wonderful! You're hired!" The man exclaimed.**

**Mike looked at him, surprise etched in his face. "Just like that? No interviews, background checks, anything?"**

**"Yep," the man nodded, "the name's Frederick Fazbär, by the way."**

**Mike nodded bluntly and Frederick stared, "Come on. Let's get you a uniform, and I can give you the basics."**

**The blue eyed 25 year old followed Mr. Fazbär out of the front room. They passed the party room, Pirate's Cove, and into a small office.**

**"This is where you'll be working!" Frederick said cheerily, grinning.**

**The place was a dump, to say it nicely. Crudely drawn pictures littered the walls along with papers strewn across the desk messily. A lonely chair sat in the corner, wasted. **

**Noticing a tablet on the desk, Mike asked, "What's that?"**

**"That's the cameras!" Mr. Fazbär was still beaming, "You can just turn it on, and, there. View all over the restaurant!" He demonstrated how to turn it on and the different cameras used. **

**Mr. Fazbär then turned towards the entryway. "These ate the doors," said the senior, clicking a red button, "and the lights." Clicking a white button. **

**"Simple enough," Mike shrugged indifferently. **

**"Good! Here's your attire!" A heap of clothes were presented before his slender hands. The shirt and cap were a dark blue, with the words 'NIGHTGUARD' strewn across it in white letters.**

**"Wear that with some jeans or khakis," his new boss gestured towards his pants. "Your shift starts at twelve o'clock and ends at six. You can stay here an have some free pizza if you want, though."**

**Mike looked up from the outfit and smiled at the elderly man. "Thank you. May I have just a few slices?"**

**Mr. Fazbär replied, "Of course!" Then scurried off to who knows where. **

**Mike pulled up the torn office chair and sat down. He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair and exhaled through his mouth with an 'o' shape. It couldn't be that bad, sitting on his butt the whole night and staring at some cameras. Right? He left his wild thoughts away and came into the main room again. Children were still plentiful, and he saw his new boss place down a plate with pizza on a small table and looked at Mike before going towards the office.**

**Settling down in the strangely plush chair, the brunette thoughtfully chewed in his pizza, which was surprisingly not bad. Their were three of the ridiculously cheesy heart attack bombs on his plate. Mike looked down, exasperated, he was afraid that taking one tiny slice would mean death, and here were kids chowing down on 'em like no tomorrow. Rolling his cerulean eyes, the newly hired night guard sneakily threw away the two other pizza slices and headed out the door.**

**Mike's keys jingled as he strode towards his sad, beat up car. The thing took three minutes to roar to life. More than last time. Driving back, he looked at his phone during a stop light. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help hisself. The time was twelve o'three, and he'd most likely make it home in seven minutes. A cars honking behind him took Mike out of his trance and he heard the female driver scream, "Move, you motherfucker!"**

**He grimaced and flicked the woman off through the now open window. She looked shocked and her mouth was pulled into a tight poker face. Going ahead of the 35 speed limit by 10 mph, Mike soon made it home to his horrible apartment. He fumbled with the key in the lock and burst into his home.**

**When does the shift start, twelve? He thought, and sauntered off to get the well needed and deserved sleep.**


	2. Night 1

Mike yawned sleepily as he awoke from his dreamless slumber and blundered over towards the alarm clock that glared at him menacingly from the nightstand. Michael hates alarm clocks. He realized it said ten-thirty, and slammed on the retarded thing to shut it up. Then he pulled out some loose fitting jeans and a sweatshirt. Needed to be comfortable, as a long night was ahead. He brushed his teeth thoroughly and combed his brown hair to look at least halfway decent. Checking his iPhone 5S, it said the time waseleven. Wiping the crust from his dreary blue eyes, the young man picked up his ring of keys and leapt into the cool night air that constricted him with ice.

His car actually started without much trouble, and silently pulled out of the desolate parking lot in front of his apartment. The night was cold and calm, and hopefully nobody was going to be out with their kids. A couple of mistimed (or so he thought) red stoplights made him jerk and hit the brakes mercilessly and got a couple of angry shouts from the few night owl drivers behind him. How did he even get his drivers license again?

He pulled up to the old restaurant in more than less, twelve minutes. Mike saw the owner, Frederick Fazbär, beginning to close up for the night.

"Hey kiddo!" He cried as Mike walked up, "What's your name, again?"

"Michael Schmidt, you can call me Mike, sir."

The elderly man nodded in a business like manner before handing him the few keys and waltzed off to his own, brand new silver Mercedes.

Staring in disgust at the overweight owner, Mike thought, _Greedy rich ass_, and walked into the greasy restaurant.

The smell of bleach wafted in the air and he looked at his cheap watch. Eleven thirty-two. Enough time to get situated in this freak show of a pizzeria. He walked past an abandoned room known as Pirate Cove on his way to the office before stopping a little past the doorway, pondering, and walked into the old attraction.

The air was musty as if it hasn't been moved around in a while, and dust dotted the area around Mike like dirty stars. Uncertainly, he made it towards the purple curtains before pulling them back. His blue eyes made out a broken ship and a large treasure chest filled with fake golden coins in the gloom, as well as a slumped figure in the back. Memories flickered in his eyes like glossy minnows swimming in a cerulean pool as the man stared at what was left of his favorite animatronic as a kid. The pirate fox had wires spilling out of himself and parts of the metal endoskeleton showed and glimmered slightly in the dim cove. Wow, maintenance really let this guy go. Shivering, Mike pushed the thoughts of Foxy towards the back of his mind. He made it back to the office and annoying room fan five minutes before midnight struck and began his boring shift.

Mike pulled out his phone before a ring ring noise coming from across the room made him jump and shut it off. A shaky voice was heard on the other end.

**"Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night. Um, I actually worked in that office before you. I'm finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact. So, I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I'm here to tell you there's nothing to worry about. Uh, you'll do fine. So, let's just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay?**

**Uh, let's see, first there's an introductory greeting from the company that I'm supposed to read. Uh, it's kind of a legal thing, you know. Um, "Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. A magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life. Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or person. Upon discovering that damage or death has occurred, a missing person report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon property and premises have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpets have been replaced."**

**Blah blah blah, now that might sound bad, I know, but there's really nothing to worry about. Uh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit quirky at night, but do I blame them? No. If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I'd probably be a bit irritable at night too. So, remember, these characters hold a special place in the hearts of children and we need to show them a little respect, right? Okay.**

**So, just be aware, the characters do tend to wander a bit. Uh, they're left in some kind of free roaming mode at night. Uh... Something about their servos locking up if they get turned off for too long. Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day too. But then there was The Bite of '87. Yeah. I-It's amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know?**

**Uh, now concerning your safety, the only real risk to you as a night watchman here, if any, is the fact that these characters, uh, if they happen to see you after hours probably won't recognize you as a person. They'll p-most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. Now since that's against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, they'll probably try to... forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear suit. Um, now, that wouldn't be so bad if the suits themselves weren't filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices, especially around the facial area. So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort... and death. Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth when they pop out the front of the mask, heh.**

**Y-Yeah, they don't tell you these things when you sign up. But hey, first day should be a breeze. I'll chat with you tomorrow. Uh, check those cameras, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power. Alright, good night."**

Pure horror was etched on Michael Schmidt's handsome face as the pre-recorded man spoke. Carpets have been cleaned? Quirky animatronics? Missing frontal lobes after '87? Endoskeletons out of place? DEATH?! What in the living actual fuck was going on here? Why is he asking so many questions?

"C-calm down, Mikey," he said, using the pet name he hated that his mom called him, "this i-is probably some s-stupid prank."

He reached for the gray tablet and pulled up the monitor. It showed the stage at first and-oh no. The bunny was gone! Mike frantically searched through all of the cameras until he saw the lavender figure with his gross face pushed up against the backstage camera. Creepy. The brunette shuddered and looked at the others, and everything else was in place. The power was at 86% and it was thirty 'til two. Sighing in relief and confident he could make it through the night, Mike looked at the fuzzy cameras once again. Now Bonnie was in the dining room across from Pirate's Cove, standing on two thick legs between long tables of party hats.

By now he was getting into a pretty good rhythm of checking on the robots, until he couldn't find the stupid bunny once again.

"Where is that lit-" his voiced was cut off by sheer fright when Mike checked the halls outside, and saw the horrid face and beady eyes staring in the office. He slammed the door button with his hand and silently sobbed in relief, knowing the creature couldn't get in through the hard metal door. At least, he thought.

Bonnie's shadow was not in the window when Mike clicked on the light, so he checked the camera and found him in the backstage area once more. He clicked on the door and it pulled away while checking the time and power. Three o' forty, with 50% of power. Man, the door down sure did strip him of power. The young man made sure to be extra careful now, as he didn't want to find out what happens when he ran out. Yet, he was pretty sure it had to do with what the Phone Guy said about "endoskeletons out of place."

Bonnie was quite content alternating between backstage and the dining room, but Mike was fine with that. Less problems and things to worry about. Then he checked back to look at the time, yet noticed the purple rabbit wasn't there anymore. He searched through the cameras until he found him in the corridor beside his door.

What, he's already here? That's not right! The feed suddenly went static and Mike out down the tablet to close his door hastily.

Checking outside, he saw the large outline of ears and a nose. His triumphant feeling was replaced by dismay when he looked at the blasted time and power. He had burned through more than 20% in about an hour. 28%, exactly five. Optimism refused to stop flooding throughout his entire body, so Mike was determined to whip these animatronics' asses. He stared blankly at the cameras to Pirate's Cove, and nearly fell out of his chair when he saw the glowing yellow peeking from the curtains.

Thirty minutes later, Bonnie was once again at his door.

"Dammit, rabbit!" He screamed at the shadow in the window, before it disappeared. The bunny was extremely determined to kill him today.

A small voice in the back of his head said, _And it's only night one._

Mike buried his hand in his hair before he heard a bell.

**_Ding, dong, ding, dong, dong, dong, ding, dong._**

"Finally!" He screamed and ran out the East Hall, the Kitchen, and Bathrooms before bursting into the front room.

The violet villain was back in his righteous place in the restaurant, to Mike's relief. Still, he made sure to be cautious while walking towards the double doors. Mr. Fazbär unlocked the two front doors and stepped in.

"Ah, Mike!" Frederick smiled, "Any trouble?"

_Should I tell him_, Mike thought, before shaking his head inwardly. _Nah, he wouldn't believe me. _

"Not at all, sir!"

"Wonderful! My previous employees quit almost on the first night every time. Claimed that the animatronics were, 'killing machines.' So foolish, I'm glad you aren't caught up in rumors and gossip. Probably couldn't handle the night season." Frederick rolled his eyes, still smiling.

Mike nodded and lied, "I wouldn't believe it, sir."

He then walked outside into the rising sun to let it kiss his pale skin and bestow it's warmth upon him. Sighing, he turned his head around slowly as his hair bounced. As Mr. Fazbär closed the doors, Mike swore he could see Freddy Fazbear and the gang themselves staring at him, a glint in their once thought lifeless glass eyes.


End file.
